


Afterglow

by berryboys



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryboys/pseuds/berryboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once more, Hansol repeats inside his mind that Yuta is just a pretty boy. Only that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [NCTprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NCTprompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Hansol confesses to Yuta over chicken nuggets and McFlurry. In response the other chokes on the Bounty milkshake.
> 
> Betaed by my baby bunny [koshitsu_kamira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/koshitsu_kamira)!

It’s 3 a.m., and Hansol is going to confess. At a McDonald’s.

 

No matter how ridiculous the situation is, Hansol is going to finally confess. If you had asked him months ago, or had insinuated he would fall in love with Yuta, Hansol would have felt a bit offended. However, he reckons he has no way of controlling his own feelings, and somewhere along the way he stopped caring about the loss of control.

 

This is a rare moment in which he has Yuta for himself, without the other joking around, being childish or calling him ugly. It might be because he is too preoccupied with munching on a chicken nugget and sipping on his milkshake at the same time, though (Hansol has always been amazed at Yuta’s stomach, considering he has a flawless body even though he fills it with trash). But the important part is that Yuta is quiet, and that allows Hansol his long awaited chance. They have gone through too much together, and even if Yuta rejects him, Hansol won’t let him go as a friend.

 

But wait, this story doesn’t start here. Hansol didn’t fall in love with Yuta in this instant while watching him eat like an animal. And this moment wouldn’t make sense without explaining first why Hansol is completely in love with such an idiot. So Hansol has to start at the beginning, of course, when he first met Yuta.

 

 

 

 

“Yuta is arriving tomorrow.”

 

Youngho dumps the bomb the saturday right after the finals, when all of them – Hansol, Ten and Taeil - are infernally hung over. Hansol has slept in the couch, since last night he wasn’t able to find the path to his shared bedroom with Ten. This means that as Youngho wakes up two hours later and plops down next to him, bowl of cereal in hand, his beauty sleep is bound to be disturbed. Ten is walking around the apartment in underwear, picking up the pieces of clothing that he discarded while he was tipsy – he has the weird habit of stripping after a couple of shots - and Taeil must be still in his bed, because there’s no way Youngho would dare to bother his beloved boyfriend.

 

“Who is Yuta?” Hansol grunts, annoyed.

 

Youngho glares at him from the corner of his eyes, as if twisting his head to look at Hansol is too much of a hassle. Anyway, it’s Ten who responds to the usual obliviousness Hansol lives in. Even if it’s true that Hansol doesn’t pay much attention in general, it’s not his fault, because anyone would disconnect when Youngho begins to blabber. Except Taeil, Hansol supposes, who loves listening to Youngho’s gibberish with heart eyes.

 

“Really, Hansol?” Ten jumps on the arm rest, still only in his boxers. Hansol doesn’t mind it that much; seeing that Ten is his roommate, he’s way too familiar with his tendency to nudity. “He has been talking about Yuta for months now.”

 

Hansol makes the effort of sitting up, rubbing his eyes in an attempt of remaining awake. “So? Who is Yuta?”

 

“My Japanese friend.”

 

“You have a Japanese friend?”

 

Upon noticing how Hansol’s lips quirk up a bit, like hiding a smirk, Youngho blurts out, “Fuck you, man.”

 

Given that Youngho refuses to repeat all the information he has been spitting since the beginning of the year, it’s Ten who updates Hansol. Apparently, Yuta is a childhood friend of Youngho, kids coerced by their mothers to get along. The forceful friendship had a good result though, because Youngho has kept in contact with him throughout the years, always promising to reunite in the future. Hansol deduces two things about Yuta: first, if their mothers were friends, this means Yuta is another rich boy with his life solved, just like Youngho; second, if he likes Youngho, he must be just as insufferable as him.

 

“Yuta is a bit…” Youngho cuts in when Ten is moving on to a list of reasons why _Hansol will absolutely like Yuta_. The topic sounds like he’s being tricked into a mess, especially because Ten is putting his persuading skills on full display. Youngho eyes them nervously before finishing with a “blunt.”

 

Hansol is alarmed at such adjective, if not at Youngho’s cautious behavior. “Oh god, what does that mean?” he whispers, suspicious. But the headache makes him reconsider his own question, thus he corrects himself. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

 

Ten snickers, “Taeil has shown me his Instagram. He can be _blunt_ if he wants to.”

 

 

 

 

Hansol isn’t a superficial person. His motto in life is that you have to cherish your friends, your partner or your family for what they hold inside, for their strengths and their flaws. Not for how handsome or pretty they look when they are twenty. Youth decays and Hansol fears to find his future self sharing his life with a person who is ugly both inside and outside. He once dared to tell Youngho about this sentiment, which only earned him a _I don’t know what you mean, my boyfriend is hot and nice, and smart… so whatever_. But Hansol still stands by that stream of thought.

 

Therefore, Hansol’s romantic life has been quite complicated. He has given chances to boys to whom he didn’t feel attracted, and rejected other boys who made his legs tremble just by being around. He doesn’t regret it. However, sometimes he wonders if he should.

 

So here comes Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta. On a sunday night, dragging a huge suitcase through the airport. And he’s pretty. Maybe excessively pretty when he first smiles upon recognizing Youngho. Taeil greets him as if they have been friends for years too, and Yuta grants the three of them quick hugs, stretching it on in Youngho’s case. Hansol ponders, frozen in his spot, that perhaps he’s not going to come across such a beautiful smile ever again in his life. But after a second, he also thinks that he’s being ridiculous. Yuta seems the type to treat strangers like they are family, and his friendliness disconcerts Hansol.

 

But that night, Yuta’s image remains in his mind, behind his eyelids. And of course, Hansol doesn’t give it any importance, because he doesn’t believe in love at first sight: that’s an invention of the film industry to delude everyone into the possibility of finding their soulmate. Yuta is just pretty, handsome, yada yada, and boys like him can affect Hansol too. He’s not made of stone.

 

 

 

Yuta can’t enter his new apartment until two weeks later, which means he will be occupying their couch during that time. This explains why Ten tried to convince Hansol he would like Yuta, although they all decided to hide this piece of information until Yuta is present and it would be discourteous to protest.

 

It’s settled that Yuta sleeps on the couch, then. Ten has intentions to offer his bed, which Hansol manages to avoid by pinching his side without mercy. Anyhow, Ten and Yuta click immediately, an understandable event taking into account they’re both full of smiles and awkward, adorable accents.

 

Even if Taeil usually is the first one to wake up, the fate, the universe or whatever that controls the thread of his bad luck, settles that this time it will be Hansol. He has to ignore the lump that is Yuta on the couch, huddled in the blankets he was given, and goes straight to the kitchen.

 

Through the window, he observes one of the first days of the summer, and wonders what he’s going to do with so much free time now. Maybe he should have planned to visit some friends, like Yuta did, but the truth is that he lives with his actual best friends. There isn’t anyone, apart from them, that Hansol needs in his life, and that’s both satisfying and scary at the same time. When Taeil and he graduate next year, they will be going separate ways – or at least, separate houses. He knows Taeil and Youngho are determined to live together, and Ten will be left behind, will have to look for other housemates. Hansol has no idea what he will be doing.

 

“Are you making breakfast, Han Solo?”

 

Surprised, Hansol turns around with one of those guileless expressions Ten always laughs at. He can’t prevent himself from looking like a deer caught in headlights most of the time, anyway. Yuta is lazily stretching out and staring at him with half of a smile, which has an odd air of mischievousness. And well, Hansol’s eyes automatically chase to look at his abdomen, but it’s not voluntary, not like Hansol intends to. It’s human nature to follow movement, and Yuta’s sweater is _moving up_.

 

“It’s Hansol,” he corrects, furrowing his eyebrows.

 

He hopes that one, Yuta hasn’t noticed the direction of his quick glance; two, that he has answered fast enough for the situation to be comfortable. He doesn’t even understand why he is _this_ nervous. Yuta is just a pretty boy, and Hansol has dated and forsaken lots of them. Maybe not _lots_ of them, but for sure a couple of them. There is no mystery, nothing to be intimidated by.

 

Much to his shock, Yuta snickers at him. He jumps onto the closest chair and taps his fingers on the countertop, gazing at him as if Hansol is the best comedian conceivable. He doesn’t need to speak for Hansol to realize that he’s not having trouble with the language, just purposefully calling him nicknames.

 

“Of course not,” he insists, voice dripping with the threat of a challenge. “It’s Han Solo, sweetie. So, breakfast?”

 

The irony of this exchange is that Hansol is the type to have an insolent reply for each stupidity he is told. However, in front of this overconfident, borderline disrespectful Yuta, he doesn’t even remember how to talk. Words are stuck in his throat and the embarrassment bubbles up instead, which translates into Hansol looking at Yuta like a kicked puppy.

 

And this sucks. Hansol isn’t even sure he hates nicknames, because no one has used them on him, not this kind at least. His former boyfriends applied pet names on him, that’s true, but they were usual ones like babe, baby, honey, not like Han Solo. That’s absurd.

 

“You’re so funny,” Hansol lies, sending a sarcastic smile towards the boy. Yuta seems pleased for some reason, aware that Hansol is walking on a thin line right now. About to betray his manners. Hansol regains the composure, though, and chants, “Good morning, by the way.”

 

Yuta’s lips expand in the most charming smile Hansol could have ever imagined. “Good morning to you, too.”

 

 

 

 

Since Hansol is the best, kindest person in the world, he accepts to help Yuta after breakfast. Yuta acts like a normal, sane person until he takes a peek at Hansol’s phone background: a photo with Youngho four years ago, during the first year of university. Hansol admits they looked pretty awkward back then, stuck between adolescence and adulthood, but that doesn’t mean Yuta is allowed to bend over with laughter.

 

“If Youngho had changed his hairstyle, he would have managed to be a bit hot. But you...,” he trails off, gaze travelling from the screen to Hansol. “Somehow, you looked five no matter what.”

 

“Woah,” Hansol replies, perplexed. Yuta isn’t afraid of crossing the line, but he should. He’s staying in _his_ apartment, Hansol went to pick him up at the airport with _his_ car, and he has made him breakfast. “Aren’t you annoying?”

 

Yuta pats him on the thigh, smiling, and if he notices how Hansol startles at the contact, he doesn’t say anything. “Sincerity, dude, you have to value that.”

 

By the time Taeil wakes up, they are nestling in the couch, heads pressed side to side, looking up on Hansol’s phone the location of Yuta’s new house. He has made sure of scolding Yuta for not knowing where it is, and leaving for another country while being so unprepared, but Yuta pretended he didn’t understand _those words you’re using, talk slower._ The accompanying grin indicated that he comprehended everything.

 

Hansol doesn’t realize there is not a single inch between them until Taeil fakes a cough and Yuta separates from him, surprised. He wouldn’t feel self-conscious, except because Taeil arches his eyebrow and his stare drills into Hansol and his shame. It’s a fleeting gesture that demands an explanation, though Hansol knows Taeil isn’t being intimidating on purpose; it’s just logical curiosity, considering Hansol doesn’t open up well to strangers.

 

“Is Youngho still sleeping?” Yuta asks, nonchalant even if he was snuggling against Hansol’s side a second ago. “I thought he wouldn’t be able because he would be too excited of having me here.”

 

Coy, Taeil laughs at that, but he doesn’t join the bullying towards Youngho. Hansol reckons he doesn’t work out that well with Yuta either, unless Youngho is present to function as the glue that sticks them together. Yet again, Taeil has never shown any problem with how contradictory Youngho’s personality is to his, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

 

“He’s in the shower. He’s excited though,” Taeil admits, eyes wandering to avoid eye contact with either of them. It takes Hansol several seconds to understand why: Yuta is dangerously close to him again, head lolling sideways near his shoulder. Hansol doesn’t dare to move. “He has been chatting nonstop about the places he wants to show you.”

 

Yuta’s hair brushes against Hansol’s shoulder, right before murmuring, “Sweet.” And then, staring at Hansol, he questions, “Are you tagging along too?”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes, you, the selfsame Han Solo.”

 

Either because Taeil chuckles out of the blue, approving the nickname, or because Yuta’s eyes are incredibly dark and mesmerizing, Hansol doesn’t have an answer.

 

“He doesn’t have anything better to do,” Taeil comes to the rescue, or in this case, contributes to put him in another difficult situation. Hansol suspects that maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to tour the city only with Youngho and Yuta, since he could end up being the third-wheel, or turning poor Yuta into the third-wheel. “So he can come with us.”

 

 

 

 

Contrary to what they’re expecting, Youngho announces that the first day is reserved for Yuta and himself only.  And that they should calm down about wanting to steal Yuta from him because they will be able to go out with him any other day. This amuses Ten quite enough, and he spends five minutes throwing flying kisses at Yuta and saying he will be waiting for his boy at home. He completely ignores Hansol’s cringing face and Youngho telling him to stop being embarrassing, though Yuta seems to find Ten hilarious.

 

So the good news is that Hansol doesn’t have to pass the whole day wondering why Yuta makes him so troubled and tense. The bad side to this is that as soon as the two guys disappear from the apartment, Taeil snitches about what he saw and Ten freaks out.

 

“You were like… cuddling with him?” he squeals, words drowned by own his laughter. Taeil has to cover his mouth to hide a grin, aware that Hansol is glaring at both of them, as Ten continues, “I know you have been single for a while, but isn’t it a bit soon?”

 

“I wasn’t cuddling with him!” Hansol protests, cheeks red. “Shut up. It’s him who doesn’t have any sense of what personal space is.”

 

“It’s okay if you find him attractive,” Taeil assures, voice comforting, and Ten nods in agreement. “For example, I think he’s handsome. I’m not going to die for saying it out loud, right?”

 

It’s obvious Yuta is good looking, there is no point in denying it; Hansol knows that if he dared to say Yuta is ugly, his friends would tease him about his evident phase of denial. It would be much worse than this.

 

“I’m not swallowing the bait,” Hansol concludes.

 

Not convinced, Taeil shrugs it off. However, Hansol’s main problem is that he’s positive Taeil is going to tell Youngho about this conversation. And Youngho has a big mouth, even capable of plotting against his friend’s will. Hansol had his last relationship two years ago, which means Youngho and Taeil have been constantly trying to set him up for more than one year. Perhaps this keeps happening because he’s the type to get involved in serious relationships, given that they never bother Ten about not having a boyfriend. Ten dates around a lot, anyhow.

 

Once more, Hansol repeats inside his mind that Yuta is just a pretty boy. Only that.

 

 

 

 

The supposed day reserved for Yuta and Youngho soon becomes two, and then three. Truth to be told, Hansol finds it funny at first because he has never witnessed such a behavior from Youngho: he’s painfully attached to Yuta, needs his approval for everything, and looks terribly smug when Yuta likes something he has done or said. He supposes they must have missed each other a lot. When Hansol comments it, Youngho confesses that there’s something about real childhood friendships that can’t be replaced by new ones.

 

It’s during the fourth day when Taeil’s tolerance break downs. He’s nothing but calm for days straight, which doesn’t mean he’s not indignant, and Hansol is anticipating Youngho’s guilty reaction when everything blows up.

 

“I don’t even like museums,” Yuta is telling Youngho during lunch, both ignoring the rest of the guys. Hansol has been whispering with Ten about how Taeil seems pissed, not because the emotion reflects on his face, but because he keeps observing Yuta with a calculating air. They’re excited for the upcoming drama. “But if you’re sure this one is good…”

 

“We can do something e-” Youngho starts.

 

In that instant, Taeil huffs, and without an ounce of shame, he proposes, “Yuta, what about you give me my boyfriend back?”

 

Silence takes over the apartment, except for Ten trying to conceal his laughter by coughing. Yuta isn’t taken aback at all, and glances at Taeil like he gets what he’s talking about. Hansol has the feeling he’s having a hard time not to laugh as well. Youngho is a different case however, because suddenly he’s so nervous that he knocks his glass down by accident.

 

“Of course,” Yuta sighs, hurrying to clean the mess with napkins. He sends Taeil an apologetic smile, and if Taeil is able to resist that, he should receive an award. “I can monopolize Han Solo instead.”

 

“Why me?” Hansol whines immediately. He has given up with the nickname, since Yuta isn’t disposed to change it any time soon. “Why not Ten?”

 

Yuta gazes at him for less than a second, eyes returning to the table, but his lips draw a cryptic smirk. “Because you like me more.”

 

There is a positive side to this, Hansol recognizes, because no one is paying them any attention, therefore he’s being spared of the embarrassment. Youngho has gotten up to soothe Taeil with a remorseful grimace, and Ten is too busy throwing the napkins into the bin.

 

Either way, Hansol opts for ignoring the provocation. Every time he opens his mouth, Yuta rejoices at his not-so-smart replies, and Hansol needs a different strategy. He’s still working on ignoring the comments that make his blood boil, the ones that make him want to verbally fight him.

 

“Okay,” Hansol grants, hoping that his face doesn’t show his intentions. “What do you want to do?”

 

Yuta is baffled, and he takes a moment to inspect Hansol as if he fears this is some kind of trap. It’s true Hansol hasn’t displayed much fondness towards him since he arrived, but they only engage in mindless banter, nothing hurtful. Actually, Hansol doesn’t feel that annoyed by Yuta except in certain moments; he’s entertaining overall. After a whole life of people giving into his wishes if Hansol insisted, Yuta is a nice, irksome change.

 

“I’ll come up with something,” Yuta says at last, shoulders relaxing. His face is unreadable, and Hansol would like to know what that means.

 

But as though it’s taboo, no one comments a single thing during the lunch, so Hansol assumes that it’s just him who considers it an odd situation. His supposition proves to be wrong when he goes back to his room with Ten, and his friend closes the door in a hurry with a huge grin plastered on his face. The voices from the hall are muffled, but he can hear Yuta and Youngho striding to the latter’s room.

 

“Was that what I think it was?” Ten asks, eyebrows shooting up in a way that would have made Hansol laugh if his friend wasn’t being so childish.

 

Hansol squints. “No.”

 

“You know what I’m talking about, so it _was_.” Passing by, he pinches Hansol’s side, and launches himself onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. He observes Hansol, still standing in the center of the room like a lost child. “I feel like I’m watching a drama.”

 

Hansol grabs the closest pillow and hurls it at Ten, not as a playful gesture, but as hard as possible. The painful yelp Ten releases isn’t a relief for him, since his cheeks are still burning, and he couldn’t be more self-conscious of his own ridiculousness: Hansol, the 21-year-old male that blushes at the thought of a stupid, handsome Japanese boy.

 

“Shut up.”

  
  
  
  
  
Hours later, not bothering to knock on the door first, Yuta’s head appears inside their room. Much to Hansol’s luck, he’s still in the middle of his nap and not half naked and fighting Ten, like he was half an hour ago. Not that being asleep is much better, judging Yuta’s reaction.  
  
“Why?” he groans at Hansol as the boy drowsily leaves the bed. Hansol has asked the same a thousand times since Yuta arrived at their apartment, though. It’s just fair that it’s Yuta’s turn now. “Don’t take the trouble to dress up, just hurry up.”  
  
“I wasn’t going to dress up, you know,” Hansol argues back. He admits he’s the type to be irritated right after waking up, but Yuta is irritating at any time either way.  
  
Yuta dismisses him with a soft laugh. “Smart thinking, batman. You would be ugly anyhow.”  
  
It doesn’t help Hansol that Ten cackles at the retort, as if that’s completely true. And it’s not. Hansol thinks he’s gorgeous, at least if someone is picking on him for his looks. The rest of the time he thinks he’s average, but huge attacks on himself deserve huge responses.  
  
Nevertheless, Yuta disappears from his view before he can answer, and Hansol is left with an amused Ten and another drop of frustration.  
  
  
  
  
At first, Hansol curses himself for having accepted to go out with Yuta.  
  
Hansol passes the first minutes badmouthing Yuta because he did dress up, not excessively but enough to make Hansol feel like he hasn’t even checked himself on the mirror. He isn’t uncomfortable, though, just overwhelmed by how pretty Yuta looks in the simplest clothes.  
  
At dusk, Yuta shines, reflecting the bright lights of the city. Everyone is different when they’re surrounded by the nightlife, and everything seems more alive than it is in reality, yet it’s not the case, not the explanation for what Hansol feels when he glances at the boy. Yuta laughs and the sound incites an explosion inside him. Yuta smiles and Hansol shatters a little more, pieces barely kept together.  
  
“Really? What about having fun? Being young and wild?” Hansol mocks minutes later, as soon as he finds out what Yuta’s plans are.  
  
His expectations were low, but not in this sense: Yuta has brought him to an outdoor cinema. People are scattered around on blankets, and most of them are couples that are already being over the top with the affection. Yuta either hasn’t noticed or hasn’t given it any importance. Hansol thought they would end in a bar because that’s what he has been doing with Youngho since day one, and because Yuta didn’t peg him as the type to prefer an activity that requires silence and not being a nuisance. Perhaps he doesn’t. But perhaps he thinks Hansol does prefer it.  
  
“I can’t be young and wild every day of the week,” Yuta answers, concise. He isn’t affected by the joke, too focused on spreading their blanket the right way. “Besides, this is fun. And you can breathe the freshly polluted air.”  
  
Quiet, Hansol settles by his side. The night isn’t hot, yet he’s burning. There’s a strange flame in his stomach, heat that ascends up his back and to his neck. It’s not nervousness, but Hansol can’t tell it apart from it.  
  
When he asks Yuta what they’re watching, the boy responds with a shrug and a firm it doesn’t matter. The smirk that follows, Yuta turning his head for him not to see, leaves Hansol horribly confused. He understands what Yuta meant as the film starts, some old black and white one that Hansol remembers watching with his parents in the living room of his former house.  
  
He can’t pay attention even if he wants to, since Yuta lies down next to him, rolling over his side to stare at him, and boldly says, “What are your aspirations in life?”  
  
That’s the last thing Hansol would have imagined they would be talking about tonight. He is about to burst into laughter and cause a ruckus in the process, but as if Yuta knew that would happen, he covers Hansol’s mouth in time with his hand.  
  
“What’s up with you?” Hansol murmurs, trying to suppress his own laughter. He swats Yuta’s hand away, and repeats in a jeering tone, “What are your aspirations in life?”  
  
Yuta flicks him on the forehead, offended. “It’s a totally valid question.”  
  
“This is the kind of question you guys, little rich boys would ask,” he affirms, staring straight into Yuta’s eyes. He could tell dozens of stories, which he heard from Youngho, who has never had any financial problem, and which would prove his theory. In fact, the reason Taeil was fascinated by Youngho at first was because of how passionate he could be about life, no concerns or fear to fail.  “I’m just worried about paying my tuition, no time to dream.”  
  
The sensation is odd for Hansol, since he isn’t used to speak about this topic out loud. His friends know regardless, and Youngho has tried to lend him a hand more than once. The continuous refusal is a consequence of Hansol’s confidence in himself. He can handle it by himself.  
  
For some reason, he doesn’t think for a second that Yuta will make fun of him. Instead, when he reads Yuta’s eyes, he finds comprehension and not pity, and Yuta’s expression softens as Hansol talks.  
  
“Rich little boys?” Yuta echoes, delighted. There’s curiosity, too, as though he’s starting to decode the person in front of him. Then, noticing the heavy atmosphere, he taunts, “Just marry one of those rich little boys, he will pay your tuition.”  
  
The insinuation is clear, but Yuta is unfazed by Hansol’s analytical eyes, or his own words for that matter. All of a sudden, Hansol wants to engage in this game as well, too enchanted by that something Yuta has, something that draws him in. And either way, he isn’t concerned about bothering the rest of spectators: most of the couples are talking, like them, and given that they’re outside, their murmurs dissolve in the ambient noise.  
  
Due to the silence, Yuta grins. Hansol quirks an eyebrow. “Is that an offer?”  
  
“Hold up there, ugly,” Yuta refuses, although his reaction tells otherwise. He’s nonchalant, casual, like that was the answer he wished. With his free hand he inspects Hansol’s necklace for a moment, twirling it around his fingers, and Hansol is breathless for what it seems an eternity. Yuta places it back on his chest, fingertips brushing against the fabric and eyes twinkling. “Don’t be a gold digger on me.”  
  
“Stop calling me ugly, idiot.”  
  
Chuckling, Yuta rolls over back to his original position, and Hansol finally manages to breathe deep. There’s a tingling sensation right where Yuta’s fingers caressed him, but he wouldn’t wipe it off even if Yuta wasn’t with him. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him.  
  
“No need to be mad,” Yuta replies. “This is an universal rule. You can call hot guys ugly. You can’t call ugly guys ugly.”  
  
Silence ensues, and both of them look at the movie screen for a whole minute. However, Hansol isn’t focusing on the film, but pondering about what Yuta has said. Maybe he’s allowing Hansol to take the next step, yet he isn’t sure if he should. Or if he’s misinterpreting the signals, and Yuta is one of those boys that are mistaken as flirty when it’s a simple trait of their personality.  
  
But, on the other hand, he isn’t going to sleep tonight if he doesn’t ask. So, with a whisper, Hansol says, “So you think I’m hot?”  
  
Hansol observes Yuta’s profile, watches how his lips stretch into a satisfied grin although he keeps his gaze on the movie. “No way. Just told you you’re ugly.”  
  
Now that Yuta can’t see him, a smile emerges on Hansol’s face too.  
  
  
  
  
They arrive home quite late, almost at dawn, but it feels like it hasn’t been enough time. Like he needs a thousand more nights with Yuta. Hansol is aware he will bombarded with questions from his friends in the morning – alternatively, Youngho might ask Yuta instead. But he won’t have any anecdote to tell, for Yuta behaved like every other guy of his age, including the stupidity and the interminable playful attitude. No one is going to believe that they solely talked all night, rather than going to a bar, drinking and dancing. Despite the simplicity of the plans, Hansol had fun, and when he slips into his bed, there’s a strange sensation of contentment within him.  
  
Yuta is an idiot, but he’s a nice idiot.  
  
  
  
  
Soon, Yuta claims that he can move around the city by himself, without anyone guiding him. It’s evident that, even though he may prefer to be independent to some extent, the main reason is Youngho tends to ignore his other friends if Yuta is around. Hansol understands him. Despite how talkative Yuta is at times, his absence leaves a disheartening silence: he’s addicting in a way that makes them yearn for his presence. Yuta can cheer them up even if he’s in a bad mood, turns the most boring conversation into an interesting topic, and brings them dinner every night without being asked to.  
  
Yuta still gets along with Ten the best, which means Hansol barely talks to him unless they are alone. Nevertheless, when they have dinner together, Hansol sometimes catches him staring. Yuta doesn’t seem embarrassed about it. His only reaction is a knowing smile, always returning his attention to the food a second later, and leaving Hansol’s pulse accelerated. Of course, Hansol recognizes the signals, not the ones coming from Yuta, but from his own body. The bundle of nerves in his stomach, the need of having Yuta around; the satisfaction when he’s the last one to go to sleep and he stays with Yuta on the couch for a while, watching some re-run of an absurd TV show. That strange feeling of intimacy.  
  
Hansol doesn’t feel like he’s in touch with reality anymore. The images play in his head as if they belong to a dream, and in fact, he dreams of Yuta several times. He dreams of smiles and sweet words and when he wakes up, he realizes the gestures are way too similar to how Yuta behaves in real life. And he needs to talk about it with someone, but everyone, even Taeil, teases him about Yuta as though it’s too obvious that Hansol has fallen for him.  
  
Then, one night, laughter from the TV as a background, both of them covered by a single blanket, Yuta reminds him, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”  
  
“Leaving?”  
  
Yuta tenderly nudges him in the leg as a way to attract his attention, and Hansol complies, glancing at him in time to see how he rolls his eyes. “To my actual apartment.”  
  
It’s not necessary to answer, Hansol knows it, and his lips are dry with words. Perhaps there’s a reason why Yuta is bringing up the topic just now, yet he can’t figure it out, not when Yuta has that invisible layer that Hansol is unable to cross.  
  
He fixes his stare on the screen, fiddling with the blanket. He senses Yuta’s eyes on him, however, with overflowing expectation.  
  
“Hey, are you only staying for the summer?” Hansol asks at last, as casual as possible. Still, his voice wavers, hesitation evident, and he hates himself for that.  
  
Yuta snorts.  
  
“Hansol,” he calls, throwing back his head to laugh. Hansol has the feeling that, as usual, Yuta is laughing at him, although he hasn’t done anything remotely funny. It takes him several seconds to control himself, reducing his amusement to a chuckle. “What the actual fuck. I came here for the whole school year. If I was here for holidays I would have crashed on your couch the whole summer.”  
  
Hansol’s reaction isn’t immediate. He had assumed Yuta was visiting Youngho, not staying. He thought that he would have to endure the confusion during one month at most, and then Yuta would be gone and Hansol could forget about him. Now, under Yuta’s scrutinizing eyes, he realizes it isn’t going to be so easy. And, much to his own surprise, there’s a hint of relief settling inside him.  
  
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Hansol says, “What a cheap ass.”  
  
“Right?” Yuta grins, but his expression differs, forced, as if he senses Hansol’s nervousness and wonders why it’s there. But he doesn’t dare to ask.  
  
The boldness that characterizes Yuta is strangely gone, yet he moves over the couch until they’re touching each other, searching for warmth. Without a word, he leans his head on Hansol’s shoulder, and it’s a final dot to the conversation. Grateful for the closure, Hansol relaxes in the silence but, overall, embraces the unspeakable sensation of Yuta’s cheek against his arm. His ears perk up with every sound Yuta releases, the diverted sighs, the soft gasps and the occasional laughter that rumbles through Hansol too. He watches Yuta carefully instead of paying attention to the show, and wishes he would linger around for one more day.  
  
  
  
  
  
Early in the morning, Youngho storms into the living room. Tired, Hansol drifts out from his sleep, but the first thing that startles him isn’t Youngho and the frown on his face as he grabs the tv control. It’s Yuta’s arms around him, face in the crook of his neck, and his own hands seizing the back of Yuta’s t-shirt with a scary familiarity. They’re pressed against each other, legs entangled, and Yuta is so absorbed in his dreams that he doesn’t wake up when Hansol lets go with a choked, embarrassed cry.  
  
“I can’t believe you guys had the TV on all night,” Youngho grunts, and though his voice drips with annoyance, his eyes glimmer once he examines the scene. Understanding, his mouth momentarily twitches into a smirk before continuing, “I’m the one who pays the bills.”  
  
A barefoot Taeil steps in after his boyfriend, but he’s way faster to get the situation. “If you wanted to sleep together, you could have used your bed,” he points out, shrugging. “I guess you didn’t want Ten interrupting anything, huh?”  
  
“We didn’t w-“  
  
“This is so interesting,” Youngho cuts in, ignoring Hansol’s protest. He spins around to face Taeil, and both of them share satisfied looks. “I wasn’t expecting they would get along, much less than this.”  
  
Whether it has any use or not, Hansol is determined to defend himself. Yet right when he’s about to voice out his objection, fingers wrap around his wrist, and Yuta mutters a drowsy, “Hansol, don’t mind them.”  
  
So Hansol doesn’t.  
  
  
  
  
Needless to say, Yuta hasn’t packed in advance, thus he skips breakfast to do it. He whines around, insists he can’t find everything, until he lures Hansol to help him. It just so happens Hansol isn’t the best at ordering and managing space either, so when the time to close the suitcase comes, they realize they should have folded the clothes properly. But since none of them is disposed to begin from zero, Yuta forces Hansol to sit on the suitcase as he zips it.  
  
“Did you choose me because I’m fat?” Hansol jokes, calmly monitoring how Yuta struggles with the suitcase.  
  
“In that case, I would have chosen Youngho.”  
  
“I can hear you, asshole!” Youngho yells from one of the rooms, chortling afterwards.  
  
Yuta chuckles under his breath, and Hansol finds himself fondly smiling at the friends’ bickering. After several seconds, he becomes aware of how Yuta and he are staring at each other, in silence, both of them grinning like fools. Not being the target of Yuta’s mockery, but of that smile, Hansol feels intoxicated. Drowned.  
  
“You are lucky Taeil didn’t hear that,” Hansol remarks, destroying the moment on purpose. As soon as Yuta averts his gaze, he’s able to breathe again, knees and hands trembling. “He’s really scary when someone picks on Youngho.”  
  
Mumbling that he can handle Taeil on his own – which Hansol doubts, because Yuta has no idea how strong Taeil is despite how tiny he looks - Yuta resumes the packing. He hops onto the suitcase too, which makes it creak under their weight, and extends his hand on Hansol’s thigh, palm facing upwards.  
  
“Give me your phone,” he demands, cool, searching Hansol’s eyes in the process. Skin brushes against skin as Hansol obeys, not questioning the boy’s aim, but trusting him instead. “Thanks, sweetie.”  
  
Only when Yuta is gone, Hansol ventures to take a look at his phone, even though Ten is looking at him in suspicion. It’s not hard to come upon Yuta’s number, saved as Japanese hottie, and Hansol has to lock the phone before Ten, who is tiptoeing to look over his shoulder, reads it. He smiles to himself, self-conscious of how silly the situation is, but how much he’s enjoying it.  
  
  
  
 2:01 a.m.  To: Japanese hottie  
How is your roommate like?  
  
2:05 a.m.  From: Japanese hottie  
Who is this?  
  
2:06 a.m.  To: Japanese hottie  
Hansol ¬¬  
  
2:06 a.m.  From: Japanese hottie  
Hansol who?  
  
2:07 a.m.  To: Japanese hottie  
I’m deleting your number  
  
2:07 a.m.  From: Japanese hottie  
Nooooooo  
His name is Taeyong  
Looks like a fucking model  
I’m mad  
  
2:08 a.m.  To: Japanese hottie  
…  
  
2:08 a.m.  From: Japanese hottie  
Don’t be jealous lol  
  
2:08 a.m.  To: Japanese hottie  
Not even in your dreams  
  
2:09 a.m.  From: Japanese hottie  
So jealous lol  
  
2:10 a.m.  To: Japanese hottie  
Stop loling me.  
  
2:15 a.m.  From: Japanese hottie  
You’re way hotter, okay?  
  
2:15 a.m.  To: Japanese hottie  
Lol

 

                                  

 

 

Nakamoto Yuta is a whirlwind that shatters Hansol’s monotony. It happens so fast that Hansol doesn’t have time to process it, yet he does have time to be scared. While Yuta adapts to his new apartment, he texts him nonstop, even to tell Hansol the most insignificant details. Sometimes he calls, particularly at night, until one night Ten fusses about not being able to sleep because of Hansol’s murmurs and giggles, and go _talk to your boyfriend to the goddamn living room_.

 

Hansol can’t sleep at night, either. He anticipates Yuta’s answers, stares at the screen until his eyes are red and spends the whole night exchanging stupid texts with Yuta without remorse. During the daylight, both of them have alarming dark circles, which becomes a perfect excuse to get coffee together. Yuta also likes going out, but that usually includes the rest of his friends as well. The first time Hansol spots Yuta and Ten dirty dancing while they are in a club, he has a laughter attack for so long that it makes him dizzy. He tries to record them for blackmailing purposes, but Youngho distracts him with his drunken talk about how sexy Taeil is.

 

Only a month later, Hansol meets Taeyong, which means Yuta doesn’t invite him to his apartment until then. He has no idea why, because both Youngho and Ten have been there multiple times. He doesn’t ask, though, and that’s the last worry in his mind when he finally realizes that yes, Taeyong looks like a fucking model, perfectly defined features and a balanced mixture between sexiness and sweetness. Yuta lives with a guy that must have other suitors queuing for him, and out of the blue Hansol is conscious of how inferior he is, how many options Yuta has that aren’t _him_. Of course he wouldn’t ever consider Hansol anything more than a friend.

 

“Yuta talks about you nonstop,” Taeyong confesses as soon as said boy disappears into the bathroom. He has his feet up on the table, while Hansol sits awkwardly next to him. It’s inevitable for Hansol to gaze at Taeyong in curiosity, almost in admiration, but he’s not disconcerted at the attention. Hansol reckons he’s used to it. “Please, shut him up. I think I’ve never known someone as deeply as I know you.”

 

Raising a brow in skepticism, Hansol replies, “We met this summer. Not even he can know me that well.”

 

“What does that even mean, man?” Taeyong asks, bumping his shoulder. There’s casualty in his voice, but his words hit close to home. “Longevity isn’t quality.”

 

Taeyong leaves him without adding anything else, nor waiting for him to retort. Even if Hansol tries to deny it, for his own sake and sanity, Taeyong is right. He’s one of those persons who has trouble opening up to others, who needs time, slowly displaying one trait after another of their personality. Yuta is the opposite, for he isn’t afraid of anyone, thinks that’s not a weakness but his forte. If everyone knows his secrets, he’s somehow in advantage, free of coercion.

 

However, with Yuta, the development has been different. Hansol has given away too much, too fast, and Yuta loves peeling off his layers one by one. It’s a challenge for him. He makes him feel emotionally naked, as though Hansol can’t hide anything from him, yet he has abandoned any attempt of avoiding it.

 

“Do you want to stay here?” Yuta catches him off guard, plopping down on the couch. Upon noticing Hansol’s tense position, he immediately shrinks against him, encircling Hansol’s arm with his own. “You okay?”

 

There are dozens of reasons why Hansol isn’t okay. First, Yuta looks awfully beautiful this way, pupils gazing at him through long eyelashes. Second, Hansol has too many doubts. He wants Yuta to tell him what he feels, wants to say ‘are we only friends?’ and receive a negative answer. He wishes he could lean down to taste Yuta’s lips, just once, and then they could forget about it.

 

 “Yeah.”

 

It’s evident Yuta doesn’t believe him, because his eyes roam over his face in concern. Hansol is aware he has the lie painted all over his expression.

 

“Taeyong said something, didn’t he?” he speculates with a sigh. His fingers hover over Hansol’s sleeve, tracing a hesitating path, until they land on Hansol’s hand. When Yuta, without shame, interlaces their fingers together, the deafening sound of his heartbeat is all Hansol can hear. “He’s nosy. Don’t worry about him.”

 

“I wasn’t worried, Yuta. Just thinking.”

 

Yuta spends a moment to stare at him, and then to their hands, tenderly massaging Hansol’s fingers on purpose. “Okay, so… want to stay? Or do you want us to go out?”

 

In the end, they opt for passing the night in the apartment, given that Taeyong announces two minutes later that he’s going out. It spikes Hansol’s instinct, or rather false hope, the one that convinces him that Yuta feels the same he does, _whatever_ that is. Now it whispers that Taeyong is giving them intimacy, that maybe both housemates accorded this beforehand. Nevertheless, Hansol manages not to be paranoid as they make dinner together, relaxed by the way Yuta laughs at every single sentence that comes out of his mouth. They play around with the food too, so the result is that they eat _horrible_ homemade ramen, which Hansol didn’t think was possible.

 

Later that night, when Hansol is putting his jacket on and searching for his keys, Yuta observes, “Isn’t it too late to go back to your apartment?”

 

There’s cheekiness in the way Yuta talks, thus Hansol isn’t surprised to find his keys in Yuta’s hand when he spins around. The boy waves them teasingly, assuring Hansol that he isn’t offering them, rather laying a claim on them.

 

Hansol can’t help but to groan at Yuta’s triumphant grin, “Are you my mother?”

 

Instead of falling for the provocation, which was Hansol’s intention, Yuta approaches him with fast steps but a calm façade. Hansol is petrified as Yuta slips his jacket off his shoulder, gently, as if he presumed he would be pushed away. The truth is that Hansol’s legs threaten to fail him and his tongue doesn’t respond him, so he wouldn’t be able to stop him. Yuta is never this cautious or tender.

 

“We are friends. You don’t have to walk all the way to your home at ass o’clock,” he concludes, messily folding the jacket. “It’s not like we haven’t slept together before.”

 

Even though Yuta has a point, Hansol is incapable to ground his mind to reality. The logical way to think about it is that, indeed, they’re acting like they have done during the past month. The only change is that Hansol has finally accepted that Yuta is important for him, and that he needs more than a hug and a kiss on the cheek. However, he’s dragged into Yuta’s room without resistance, becomes visibly nervous as Yuta changes clothes in front of him, and slides into bed breathless.

 

They talk for a couple of hours, huddled in bed, Yuta drawing circles on random places of his body from time to time. His fingertips send chills through Hansol, make him close his eyes to recover the composure, but he has never felt so alive. Yuta voices out his concerns for the first time, like the fact that he chose Medicine as his major because it was what everyone expected of him. He murmurs between yawns that he yearned to leave Japan because he was terribly unhappy there, and Hansol decides it’s the best moment to ask him if he’s happy right now.

 

But, ignoring the question, Yuta throws an arm over him and buries his face against Hansol’s chest, suppressing his laughter. Hansol is tempted to caress his nape, to touch his hair and keep him as close as possible all night, yet the only thing he has the heart to do is to stare at the ceiling.

 

“You know?” Yuta whispers, beaming. “I kinda like it when we are alone. I like the other boys too, of course. But you are different. Special.”

 

 

 

4: 35 a.m. From: Ten

Where the fuck are you sleeping????

OMG HANSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

Sdkfabdfkhbdfjdfbdsfds

 

8:57 a.m. From: Youngho

YOU DIDN’T

 

9:01 a.m. From: Taeil

I hope you fucked.

 

 

 

 

For once, Hansol has no idea why he would be special to someone. Sure, he considers himself rather interesting when he reveals his real self, but there’s no comparison between him and Yuta. The harsh truth is that Yuta has much more to share than Hansol would ever have to give in return, and he isn’t entitled to deprive the rest from it, from Yuta.

 

He has accepted reality. He likes Yuta. His skin burns when the boy strokes him and his mind becomes blank just with a glance from him. When Yuta isn’t around, he’s all Hansol can think about. He might be a bit in love, too.

 

And yes, his friends are being insistent so that he confesses, convinced that Yuta is willing to take a step further. Plus according to them, Hansol gives mixed signals all the time, therefore Yuta wouldn’t put their developing friendship in danger. It’s on Hansol’s hands.

 

Hansol differs. Yuta doesn’t keep secrets to himself, as far as he knows, and even if he flirts with him, it’s just an innocent, playful act. He does the same with Ten, except the other barely responds because it would upset Hansol. Often, Hansol catches Yuta staring at his lips, and then he’s certain Yuta is thinking about kissing him, that he may come nearer and Yuta would clash their lips together without hesitating. But later, as he lies alone in bed, Hansol repeats again and again that he deluded himself into believing this lie.

 

“Look, you’re just more comfortable being a coward,” Ten spits, merciless, one day.

 

They’re at the supermarket, Ten pushing the cart while Hansol throws items in it. Taeil and Youngho are behind them, more preoccupied with buying sweets and junk food than with providing what they actually need in the apartment. That’s the reason why they usually exclude the couple from the shopping day (not to mention a certain incident about buying too much cream for themselves), but Hansol has just realized this is an Intervention. In the middle of the supermarket, but still an Intervention.

 

Hansol rolls his eyes at his friend. “Aren’t you going to feel guilty if I do confess and then Yuta rejects me? Just because you thought you were right?”

 

“No.”

 

“Come on,” Taeil interrupts, tiptoeing to reach a cereal box until Youngho gets it for him, smugger than he should be. “We aren’t blind. It’s obvious he has the hots for you.”

 

Not in the mood to fight, Hansol clicks his tongue. He inspects each one of his friends, Ten leaning on the cart with a disappointed expression, Taeil hugging the cereal box but frowning in frustration, and Youngo clearly avoiding his gaze. They are too transparent for him, and so is Yuta. There’s no discussion.

 

Hansol concludes, “Considering that Youngho must know more than all of us together, but he’s quiet every time the topic comes up, I have to think otherwise.”

 

The strategy is a success, because in no time the tables have turned and it’s Youngho who has two pairs of eyes fixedly staring at him. There’s an immediate pout on Taeil’s face for the betrayal, since he’s the type to claim that there must not be secrets in a relationship, not even someone else’s secrets.

 

“What do you know?” he asks, poking Youngho in his side.

 

Youngho makes sure to send Hansol daggers through his eyes before calming down his boyfriend, but Hansol was expecting that. Both of them are aware that back in the apartment, or as soon as they’re alone, Youngho is going to take revenge.

 

“Sorry. I’m not going to interfere.” Youngho passes an arm around Taeil, who releases a soft whine in protest. But then, he looks straight into Hansol’s eyes and guarantees, “But for the record, Yuta and me haven’t talked about this.”

 

Hansol’s heart is caught in his throat. “See? Because there’s nothing to talk about.”

 

His words come out as a whisper, and he doesn’t know how broken he sounds, but his friends give up at once, troubled. The protests are replaced by an unsettling silence that drops deep into Hansol’s stomach.

 

 

 

 

“We’re going out.”

 

Yuta is unpredictable. They have been texting for hours, chatting about trivial things, but then he shows up at his apartment without previous notice. He already looks prepared, perfect hairstyle, perfect outfit, perfect smile. Hansol opens the door in his pajamas, however, but Yuta has never made fun of how messy he looks when he’s at home. Perhaps he doesn’t care.

 

Yet there Yuta is, grinning up at him like he’s aware of his own effect on his friend. Hansol wants to kiss him. He wants Yuta so much.

 

“I don’t really feel like-”

 

“It’s my birthday!” he objects, puckering his lips. “You can’t say no to me on my birthday.”

 

Laughter roars in Hansol’s chest, and Yuta has trouble not to crack as well. “It’s not your birthday. Don’t lie.”

 

Without being invited, Yuta steps in and closes the door behind him. Then, still immersed in his role, he jabs his finger into Hansol’s chest, though the other boy just moves backwards to play along.

 

“How do you know that? You can’t know,” Yuta states, leering. “Don’t take risks.”

 

Aware that Yuta isn’t going to abandon him here, even if he refuses a million times, Hansol nods. “Okay. But you owe me a meal.”

 

“Deal, handsome.” With a childish push, Yuta moves him away and runs through the hall, screaming, “Ten! We’re going out!”

 

 

 

 

Only one hour into the club, Hansol regrets his lack of assertiveness. Here’s the overwiev: as usual, Ten and Yuta are lost among the rest of drunk, dancing people, while Hansol is at the bar, too lightheaded to walk by himself. Taeil and Youngho preferred to have the apartment to themselves rather than accompanying them, needless to say. Yuta comes to check on him from time to time, after several songs that in Hansol’s opinion sound exactly the same. But the other guy isn’t sober enough to lend him a hand, anyway, and Ten keeps dragging Yuta back to dance.

 

The bartender gives Hansol an apprehensive look as he orders one drink after another, and at some point he insinuates that maybe he should leave now by himself instead of by ambulance. Hansol doesn’t listen to him. He’s going to drown his concerns, especially the ones related to Yuta, by getting shit faced while Yuta has the time of his life right behind him. He’s conscious of that, but he doesn’t know any better solution.

 

“Are you okay?” a mellow voice pops up, and as Hansol clumsily swings his head towards it, he thinks about how not okay he is.

 

The sweet voice belongs to a boy that looks just as sweet. Hansol would say he’s younger, though even while sitting, anyone could tell he’s pretty tall. He has that ounce of innocence and consideration that some people emit, and Hansol would have found endearing how obvious it is that this guy is a first timer in a gay bar. Except he’s too bitter to care.

 

Not considering that he shouldn’t talk to a stranger when he’s in this state, Hansol spits, “Yuta is so fucking dumb.”

 

“I see,” the boy laughs wholeheartedly, as if he’s able to understand everything with a single sentence. Perhaps he does, and Hansol gets a hold of that reassuring possibility. His friends don’t understand, and Hansol himself doesn’t either. “I’m Jaehyun.”

 

“Hansol.”

 

Jaehyun sets a hand over his shoulder and leans closer so that he can hear him well. “I think you should get out of this club, and probably go home too.”

 

“With you?”

 

“Not with me,” Jaehyun assures, like he has been caught off guard. Like it wasn’t his intention at all. However, he’s pensive for a second, eyes scanning Hansol’s face with caution. “But I can give you my number if you want, I bet you’re cute when you’re not ass drunk.”

 

Hansol ponders over Jaehyun’s words, wishing he wasn’t in love with someone else. If it was easy to move on, or if the memory of Yuta’s smile wasn’t engraved deep inside his mind, he could date someone like Jaehyun. Handsome, sweet, caring. And he’s not in denial: Yuta already is all of those things, but he’s unreachable.

 

Convinced, Hansol stands up, and Jaehyun rushes closer, throwing an arm around his waist to stabilize him. Hansol feels numb and alone. “You’re right. I’m cute, and I should go home. I didn’t even want to be here in the first place.”

 

The mere thought of being away from Yuta frightens him, but it’s also a relief. However, they barely manage to take a couple of steps before something pulls Hansol back, making him stumble. Luckily, Jaehyun’s grip is strong enough for him not to fall, but he cares little about that when he realizes it’s Yuta who is hauling him.

 

Hansol registers some tiny details, like the subtle frown on Yuta’s face, or the almost imperceptible perplexity in his tone as he asks, “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Yuta, I’m leaving,” Hansol answers, confused. Isn’t it obvious? He has no reason to be here, unable to hold himself up while Ten and Yuta enjoy themselves. He doesn’t want to ruin the fun.

 

“Oh, Yuta,” he hears Jaehyun say.

 

“With this guy? Are you crazy?”

 

Nevertheless, Hansol ignores the question. Jaehyun’s touch is comforting, at least enough for him to fight against the urge of giving into Yuta, of staying with him even if he ends up hurting. He leaves with Jaehyun’s help, and that’s all he minds right now. If he were to turn around in that moment though, he would discover Yuta’s desperate expression, the shock and the pain as he watches them go. However, Hansol doesn’t look back.

 

 

 

 

Yuta disappears.

 

Next morning, Hansol already has a hunch about how bad he has messed up. He remembers little about last night, but he has a message from Jaehyun, and he takes that chance to ask. Jaehyun is kind enough to explain he drove him home, and he swears he’s abstemious and there was no danger. It was Youngho who led them in, and Jaehyun left even before Hansol woke up, given that Hansol apparently begged him not to abandon him.

 

No one else in the apartment seems to believe that nothing happened between Jaehyun and him, judging the silence and the reproaching looks directed his way. Ten doesn’t come back until noon, and Hansol assumes he passed the night with Yuta, but there are just a few words exchanged and he doesn’t dare to ask. Hansol is conscious he did nothing wrong, except maybe ditching his friends without an explanation, thus he can’t fix it.

 

But Yuta disappears. He stops calling, stops answering Hansol’s texts for days straight, and when Hansol walks all the way to his house, Taeyong awkwardly lies about how Yuta isn’t there. Every single time.

 

Hansol is on the edge of collapsing. There’s a voice within that implores him not to be affected if Yuta has decided to end the friendship, or to break whatever they had. It’s silly. He never had Yuta, so he’s not losing him. But the emptiness and the constant pressure in his chest are so strong that they’re becoming physical, and Hansol can’t deceive himself for so long.

 

Reckless, he sends dozen of texts, all of them along of the lines _of I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry_ , and _Please please please_. And every time, he receives silence as an answer, after hours of waiting for a single text, and checking that Yuta is indeed online but is brushing him aside.

 

Hansol lets go.

 

 

 

 

The doorbell rings several times on a Tuesday, when it’s past midnight and all of them are already in bed. Not asleep, though. For a while, Hansol has been discerning the voices and giggles from the other room, where Taeil and Youngho are doing something he absolutely doesn’t want to know; but Ten is asleep, which means he startles at the doorbell with a, “What the fuck?”

 

Both friends share questioning glances as a quiet argument about who is going to respond. In the end, Ten rolls around in his bed, wrapping himself with the sheets to make clear he isn’t getting up. Hansol has no choice but to give up, since Ten is capable of ignoring it regardless Hansol answers or not.

 

The doorbell is still ringing as he crosses the living room, yet he’s too preoccupied convincing himself that it isn’t whom he thinks it is. He needs to take a deep breath before opening, heart racing and nausea contracting his throat.

 

Yuta is in the entrance, agitated but serious, and he draws back as soon as he recognizes Hansol. As if he isn’t expecting to run into him this way, or he’s visiting the wrong house; as if he supposes he shouldn’t be there after all.

 

“Yuta?” Hansol whispers, voice shaking.

 

The boy hides his hands inside his pockets, eyelids flickering as he stares down at the floor. He sounds terribly apologetic as he mutters, “I owe you a meal.”

 

 

 

 

 

It’s 3 a.m., and Hansol is going to confess. In a McDonald’s.

 

“You have money to pay my whole tuition, but we’re at a McDonald’s,” Hansol comments, carrying both of their trays, which anyone would consider a stupid decision. Yuta runs free to choose a table, and chuckles when he realizes Hansol is struggling not to drop the food and drinks. When Hansol finally slips onto the chair, he whines, “I can’t believe your ass.”

 

“Shut up or I’ll make you pay your own.” Yuta threateningly points out at the chicken nuggets, and then reaches over the table to take a bite of Hansol’s McFlurry. Petrified, Hansol stares at Yuta, who unlike him seems relaxed although it’s the first time they are alone since two weeks ago. “Where else would we go at this time?”

 

“Why couldn’t we eat at any other time, though?”

 

Yuta shrugs, eyes casted down, and nonchalantly admits, “I suddenly missed you.”

 

It’s a blow that hits Hansol too hard. He has missed Yuta as well, every day, minute and second. He has missed being called _ugly_ , and _sweetie_ , and the incredible amount of dull nicknames Yuta comes up within a single day. It’s enough for him that Yuta needs him now, even if it’s just for a moment. It’s more than he could dream of.

 

Yuta isn’t just a pretty boy. He’s the boy Hansol is in love with, with his quirks and his virtues, with his deep fears behind that façade of infinite self-confidence. That’s pretty much clear now. And Yuta is going to stay, he won’t fade away when summer ends, and if he does later, Hansol will have spent at least a whole year with him. If after all Yuta feels nothing for him, Hansol will have to deal with it. He was afraid before, because he has always run away from boys who he couldn’t have, or boys who made him feel _too happy_. That has changed. Hansol needs Yuta by his side even if he doesn’t love him, only as a friend, because he isn’t disposed to lose him. He’s miserable without Yuta.

 

“Hey,” Hansol calls him, softly, scared. Yuta’s gaze wanders to meet his, and there’s an emotion in it that, like magic, soothes Hansol. “I love you.”

 

It’s just coincidence that Yuta is sipping on the Bounty milkshake in that exact moment. In consequence, he spatters it all over the table, and Hansol jerks back with a high-pitched shriek. There is no time for him to protest though, because Yuta is coughing and gripping his chest, and Hansol has to sprint around the tiny table to help him.

 

Yuta regains his composure just seconds later, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He’s still awfully alarmed. It’s then that Hansol realizes he has said _those three words_ , yet perhaps he should have elaborated a bit more. And Yuta, now that he’s able to reply, remains quiet.

 

Hansol is trembling. He has to sit down right next to him, worried his legs are going to fail him very soon if he tries to go back to his seat. Even if the last thing he wants to do now is to be so close to Yuta.

 

“You love me?” Yuta repeats, beffudled. Hansol dares to glance at him, and Yuta is staring at him with wet eyes, evident incredulity plastered all over his face. “I don’t care if you slept with that guy or not. Fuck, I so don’t care.”

 

When Yuta grabs the collar of his shirt, Hansol doesn’t process what it means. He understands, however, that Yuta’s lips are on his all of a sudden, and the younger is impatient, encircling his neck to draw him into the kiss, urging him to touch. Hansol hesitates before enclosing Yuta’s waist to bring him closer, and he melts when Yuta moans into the kiss, nipping.

 

A part of him doesn’t believe their first kiss is taking place at McDonald’s. But in any case, Yuta never promised a normal life. Hansol kisses him once and once more again until an employer kicks them out, and they laugh about it all the way to Yuta’s apartment.

 

 

 

 

“Wait, how much time did we spend being in love with each other without having sex?”

 

That is, by all means, the most appropriate thing Yuta has said in bed in months. Hansol could list a hundred topics Yuta has come up with during this time, every one of them not suitable to be talked about in public. He makes Hansol laugh. Other times, Hansol would kick him out of his house because he went too far, or alternatively he would threaten to leave Yuta’s apartment. It proved to be ineffective because Yuta would attack by enclosing Hansol with his legs which, truth to be told, Hansol can’t resist.

 

Hansol throws him a lazy look, though his eyes inevitably fall on Yuta’s bare hips. The instantaneous smirk on Yuta’s face doesn’t go unnoticed, but Hansol redirects his thoughts, “I don’t know, when did you realize?”

 

“The first day I met you.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Yuta laughs out loud, and then crawls over the bed until he’s able to lean for a kiss. When they started dating, Hansol knew he would be this type of boyfriend. Yuta doesn’t repress himself, whether it’s for a kiss, for an embarrassing confession or, much to their housemates’ disgust, because he’s enjoying _whatever_ Hansol is doing to him.

 

“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” Yuta whines, as if that is an unforgivable sin. “You have to believe. Because it was exactly _that_.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I just love yusol and I'm unworthy of them. ^o^  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/renjucas)


End file.
